Don't Know Why
by talking-eye
Summary: Post S2. Burke Cristina centered, also involves other interns, Bailey, the Chief, Callie... My alternative version of S3. Ch.15 added.
1. Chapter 1

3

**Don't Know Why**

_People say love overrides reason. Perhaps that's why it is intimidating for some. I mean, how can you do something without knowing why? It's like speeding on the freeway without knowing your destination—_

Until it stopped. Abruptly. Cristina could not remember how she fell asleep and whether she was sleeping at all, but when the music stopped, it gave her a start.

Straining her eyes to make out the position of the hands on her watch, she learned that it was early. Normally, she would go back to sleep. Who cared whether the music stopped or not? Cristina never did, because she never had to sleep with her iPod—not until the night before. There were so many dreary thoughts to battle that she held onto her music player like a precious piece of emerald.

It stopped. Cristina felt like her step-father's scratched vinyl records, the ones that she deliberately scratched with her hairpin when she was a teenager. The word "stopped" repeated in her head like a mantra. To her demise, the world did not stop. In fact, there seemed to be more going on in the past 3 days than the 30 years of her existence on earth. So many hearts had been shattered, so many changes unveiled.

Who would imagine she spent her night not at home, not beside Burke, but alone in the basement? Things were so wrong. Soon enough, she would be like George O'Malley's stocky girlfriend, making the hospital her home, hanging clothes on water pipes.

But at least, Callie made George happy; she had not failed her boyfriend.

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The moment Cristina stood up, her head started to hurt. Her eyes still half shut, she stepped onto something squishy.

"What are you doing here, Mer?" Cristina exhaled deeply, feeling glad it was not a rat.

"I was sleeping—"

"I can see that."

"No, you don't understand. I was sleeping with him last night."

"Good." Cristina nodded, trying to sound excited. "I'm glad you had a good night."

"Cristina," Meredith hesitated. "I slept with Derek."

"Great!"

"You don't see how terrible this is?"

"Why? Does he have syphilis?"

"Cristina!"

"Look, Meredith. You don't have to tell me how terrible the world is. We all know it. Denny Duquette died, Izzie's on a murder charge, and Burke is shot. You only slept with your McDreamy. Once more. You're a grown up, Mer. Deal with it." Cristina snapped.

"I'm sorry, Cris."

"It's Ok." Cristina inhaled deeply. She did not mean to sound sarcastic to her best friend. She just couldn't help it.

"Are you really Ok, Cristina? Burke's shot. You're his girlfriend. You have a reason to be upset." For a split second, Meredith shifted her focus from herself to her best friend, but it did not last. "I mean, I was very upset when Doc died. I couldn't stop crying. I thought you'd be upset about Burke too."

"Meredith, are you comparing Burke with your dog?" Cristina tossed her hair brush down the empty gurney and muttered, "I gotta go."

"To see Burke?"

"To take off this stupid prom dress and get ready before Bailey comes after us."

Without saying a word, Meredith looked at her friend with a probing stare.

"Stop looking at me, Mer. That's creepy."

"I just think that you should—"

"Right," Cristina put up one of her non-committal smiles, "I know what I'm doing. Now, you go and get ready too, Ok?"

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	2. Chapter 2

3

A/N: When something isn't in italics, it might be the perspective of the omniscient narrator, who, essentially, is biased. I hope to make this clear before anyone begins to say that Cristina is out of character in this story.

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"Yang, what're you doing here?" Bailey had always wanted to cultivate the virtue of punctuality in her interns. It was beyond anyone's comprehension, including her own, why the fact that Cristina was on time this morning bugged her.

Nobody, none of them, had any idea how Cristina kept reminding herself that Burke was shot. She told herself that he was damaged, not her. Thus, she had no right to fall apart. She would prove to others that she was Ok, that was neither a conscious nor deliberate decision—Cristina simply could not help feeling strong and fine when her entire body was high on adrenaline.

"Dr. Bailey. I'm waiting for your order. I'm ready for anything." Cristina pleaded.

"Since when has my intern become a puppy? Look at that docile smile on your face, begging me like I'm your master. I'm surprised that I don't see a wagging tail as well."

Turning her head to face the other 3 people running towards her, Bailey made a face. "And you three. Late. Again. The ER called. Grey. Karev. Be nice there. Don't make your resident look bad. O'Malley, prepare an OR for Mr. Turner. I want you to scrub in with me. Now, move!"

Grabbing her notebook, Cristina hurried after Bailey. "What about me?"

"You? You look like crap. I don't want you to scare my patients away." Bailey looked around and said, "You go and get me some coffee."

"What?"

"C-O-F-F-E-E, Coffee. You know that word, don't you?"

"Yes, but—"

"I want it ready by the time I'm done with Mr. Turner's procedure." Bailey's tone softened up suddenly. "After that, you go and sit with Dr. Burke."

Not again, thought Cristina. "Is this the Chief's order or Burke's?"

"It's my order. You fool, keep running away from that poor man, telling him you promised Dr. Bailey it wouldn't be long. You thought I didn't know that, Yang? I'm not your nanny. I don't want Dr. Burke to page me to fetch you all the time. Understood?"

Cristina nodded, feeling mildly shocked as Bailey walked away briskly.

Then Bailey made an unexpected turn and said, "On a day like this when I'm feeling a little down, I'd go for something really sweet. It might help, Cristina."

"Right."

Dragging herself to the locker room, Cristina did not know why she actually had the courage to go to Burke the night before. She vividly remembered holding his unsteady hand. The expression on his face told her how much he yearned for her, but eventually he pulled away and shut his eyes, without uttering another word. Thinking about it made her sweat. She tried not to analyze what it meant, although it obviously looked like a rejection to her.

Putting on her green overcoat, Cristina headed for the exit. Her resident did not need her; and Burke probably did not need her either. If she could not keep him happy, what was the point of sitting with him? Cristina knew she would be lying if she said she did not want to see Burke, but neither did she want to be doing nothing when she was there with him. She was a doer. It made no sense if she could not make herself useful.

As she gathered her thoughts, the summer breeze of Seattle that crawled up her coat made her shiver. It was as if she had lost grip of her two most important identities in life: as a doctor and a girlfriend. That very final word sent another chill off her spine. She could not believe she actually cared about being Burke's girlfriend; she could not believe she actually wanted to be his girlfriend.

Her whole body felt weak as a mixed feeling that no word could accurately describe flooded her.

"Watch out! If that key of yours scratches my purse, neither of us will be very pleased."

"Sorry," Cristina swiftly apologized to the woman by the nurse station.

"You work here, don't you?" Staring at Cristina from head to toe, the woman assumed she was talking to a nurse.

"Yes."

"Tell me, where can I find Preston Burke?"

The question made Cristina jump. She could not handle anymore drama before having her dose of morning coffee. In Cristina's head she was saying to herself, _Don't tell me this callous woman is Burke's mother! _

"Well…"

"Yang, why are you still here? Where's my coffee?" Bailey spotted her intern from afar. Already Bailey had allowed Izzie Stevens to fall, she now took it upon herself to make sure no one else would get into trouble. "I'll handle this, Yang. Go."

Thanking Bailey for relieving her, Cristina's shoulders slumped as she left the hospital. Even an extra strong, extra sweet coffee would not help.


	3. Chapter 3

4

A/N: I have a habit of creating non-GA characters for my stories. Sorry to those of you who cannot relate to them.

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The sweet aroma permeating every corner of the room was not as crisp as the ginger tea fragrance Cristina carried. Nonetheless, it did evoke in Burke a good amount of fond memories of his glorious youth. His eyes were heavy after hours of sedation, but the smell made him smile.

"How are you, Preston?"

Opening his eyes unhurriedly, Burke allowed the fine image of a woman standing by his bedside to fall into his pupils. "I'm surprised they called you."

"Who else would they call, Preston?" They both laughed.

Looking at the clock, Burke noticed it was already 10. In his heart, he kept wishing Cristina would drop by; but in his head, he was trying to extinguish that final flicker of hope. She had not been here since he pushed her away last night. He did not mean to upset her, but it was hard to be seen in a vulnerable light from the woman who believed he had the brilliance of God.

"How's the trip to Seattle?" Burke tried to shake off residual thoughts about Cristina by focusing on the present moment.

"Not bad. The heat wave's been pretty bad back home." Taking a piece of fluff off her Prada scarf, the woman continued, "But the nurse at your hospital, they're rude. That woman almost ran over me."

Walking closer toward Burke, the woman tactfully balanced her arrogance with sympathy, "This is bad, massively bad." She ran her fingers across his arm. "Those morons, hurting my golden boy so badly. Oh, my favorite, favorite boy!" She exclaimed melodramatically.

Burke's face darkened. He knew the damage was bad, but he did not want any other living soul to reinforce it—

Especially not when Cristina was entering the room. Judging from her slightly parted lips, Burke was pretty sure that she was about to run for her life.

"Here comes the nurse, Preston." The remark rubbed the rouge of embarrassment all over Cristina's face.

Very bad idea to listen to Bailey, Cristina thought. She should have hidden in the basement instead, no matter how hard it was to control her legs from taking her to Burke. She could not believe she had given yet another impression as a bad girlfriend to others. Worse, it was to his mother this time. Something had to be done before the problem escalated, Cristina swore to herself.

Burke thought they must have given him too much morphine when he saw Cristina suddenly lit up and rushed to shake Jackie's hand and introduced herself with much vigor, "Welcome to Seattle Grace! I am Cristina Yang, B— Preston's girlfriend."

"Is that something I should concern myself with?" The woman's shocked expression sent Burke into a transient whirl of laughter.

"Don't be so hard on Cristina. She's not a nurse, she's an intern."

Looking puzzled, Cristina wished she could find a cave to crawl into.

"Since when have interns been allowed to date their attending? No wonder Richard Webber said this is a madhouse. I won't allow that to happen if I were in charge."

"Wait, aren't you his mom? Why do you know Webber?" Cristina might be tired, but she was sure Burke's mother did not work at a hospital.

"Which part of me makes you think that I'd have a son as old as Preston?"

"But you call him your golden boy."

"Cristina, you've mistaken. She's my mentor at John Hopkins, Dr. Jackie Ames."

"The interim Head of Cardiothoracic Surgery while Preston's away, I shall add."

There was nothing more than looking bewildered that Cristina could do. It was a mystery why the world had yet another joke in store for her. "I see."

"Tell me, how long have you two been dating?"

"Six months," Cristina responded in a confused tone. She could not tell why answering that question made her heart beat in unsteady strides.

"Right," Jackie tapped on Burke's hand and said, "Preston, you really need therapy."

"Physiotherapy will start soon."

"Not that," said his mentor, shifting her searching gaze between her favorite student and his girlfriend, "Couple's therapy. You two have been dating for half a year and she doesn't even know how your mother is like?"

Feeling intimidated, Cristina starred at Burke, who was touching his brows nervously.

"Alright, Webber's expecting me. I'm glad I'll only be here for a few weeks. Get well soon, Preston."

"Thanks, Jackie."

"Try this number. It's my therapist. He's pretty good. Just moved to Seattle last month." Jackie smoothed her pants and put on her designer's hat. "Well, I left my husband in the end. Simply isn't half as fun as surgery. I'm sure you know what I mean. But you two have just begun. Might be worth a try, who knows?" Jackie's evil laughter hanged in the air as she disappeared into the hallway.

Holding the name card in her hand, it took Cristina a whole minute before she felt strong enough to speak again. "She hates me."

"Jackie is a little eccentric, but she's very smart. Will keep you busy while I'm gone."

"What do you mean?" Cristina tightened her brows with confusion.

"I'm going home." His matter-of-factness scared her. "My mother wants to come, but my great uncle is very sick and she has to stay in Alabama."

"So?" Cristina was not perceptive enough to understand why her chest was tightening and her breath was unsteady.

"So, I'm going home."

"Wouldn't it be too much for your mother to be taking care of both of you?" Nobody had warned Cristina that the question would infuriate Burke.

"What do you mean, Cristina? Nobody has to take care of me. I, I will take care of me."

"Right." Neither of them could find another syllable to fill the vacuum in the room.

Cristina walked up to his bedside, but retracted the kiss she was about to give as he shut his eyes. Another sign of rejection, she thought. She wondered how many more rejections she could take before she blew up like a bazooka. It would be too late for anyone to help then.


	4. Chapter 4

4

The sweet aroma permeating every corner of the room was not as crisp as the ginger tea fragrance Cristina carried. Nonetheless, it did evoke in Burke a good amount of fond memories of his glorious youth. His eyes were heavy after hours of sedation, but the smell made him smile.

"How are you, Preston?"

Opening his eyes unhurriedly, Burke allowed the fine image of a woman standing by his bedside to fall into his pupils. "I'm surprised they called you."

"Who else would they call, Preston?" They both laughed.

Looking at the clock, Burke noticed it was already 10. In his heart, he kept wishing Cristina would drop by; but in his head, he was trying to extinguish that final flicker of hope. She had not been here since he pushed her away last night. He did not mean to upset her, but it was hard to be seen in a vulnerable light from the woman who believed he had the brilliance of God.

"How's the trip to Seattle?" Burke tried to shake off residual thoughts about Cristina by focusing on the present moment.

"Not bad. The heat wave's been pretty bad back home." Taking a piece of fluff off her Prada scarf, the woman continued, "But the nurse at your hospital, they're rude. That Chink almost ran over me."

Walking closer toward Burke, the woman tactfully balance her arrogance with sympathy, "This is bad, massively bad." She ran her fingers across his arm. "Those morons, hurting my golden boy so badly. Oh, my favorite, favorite boy!" She exclaimed melodramatically.

Burke's face darkened. He knew the damage was bad, but he did not want any other living soul to reinforce it—

Especially not when Cristina was entering the room. Judging from her slightly parted lips, Burke was pretty sure that she was about to run for her life.

"Here comes the nurse, Preston." The remark rubbed the rouge of embarrassment all over Cristina's face.

Very bad idea to listen to Bailey, Cristina thought. She should have hidden in the basement instead, no matter how hard it was to control her legs from taking her to Burke. She could not believe she had given yet another impression as a bad girlfriend to others. Worse, it was to his mother this time. Something had to be done before the problem escalated, Cristina swore to herself.

Burke thought they must have given him too much morphine when he saw Cristina suddenly lit up and rushed to shake Jackie's hand and introduced herself with much vigor, "Welcome to Seattle Grace! I am Cristina Yang, B— Preston's girlfriend."

"Is that something I should concern myself with?" The woman's shocked expression sent Burke into a transient whirl of laughter.

"Don't be so hard on Cristina. She's not a nurse, she's an intern."

Looking puzzled, Cristina wished she could find a cave to crawl into.

"Since when have interns been allowed to date their attending? No wonder Richard Webber said this is a madhouse. I won't allow that to happen if I were in charge."

"Wait, aren't you his mom? Why do you know Webber?" Cristina might be tired, but she was sure Burke's mother did not work at a hospital.

"Which part of me makes you think that I'd have a son as old as Preston?"

"But you call him your golden boy."

"Cristina, you've mistaken. She's my mentor at John Hopkins, Dr. Jackie Ames."

"The interim Head of Cardiothoracic Surgery while Preston's away, I shall add."

There was nothing more than looking bewildered that Cristina could do. It was a mystery why the world had yet another joke in store for her. "I see."

"Tell me, how long have you two been dating?"

"Six months," Cristina responded in a confused tone. She could not tell why answering that question made her heart beat in unsteady strides.

"Right," Jackie tapped on Burke's hand and said, "Preston, you really need therapy."

"Physiotherapy will start soon."

"Not that," said his mentor, shifting her searching gaze between her favorite student and his girlfriend, "Couple's therapy. You two have been dating for half a year and she doesn't even know how your mother is like?"

Feeling intimidated, Cristina starred at Burke, who was touching his brows nervously.

"Alright, Webber's expecting me. I'm glad I'll only be here for a few weeks. Get well soon, Preston."

"Thanks, Jackie."

"Try this number. It's my therapist. He's pretty good. Just moved to Seattle last month." Jackie smoothed her pants and put on her designer's hat. "Well, I left my husband in the end. Simply isn't half as fun as surgery. I'm sure you know what I mean. But you two have just begun. Might be worth a try, who knows?" Jackie's evil laughter hanged in the air as she disappeared into the hallway.

Holding the name card in her hand, it took Cristina a whole minute before she felt strong enough to speak again. "She hates me."

"Jackie is a little eccentric, but she's very smart. Will keep you busy while I'm gone."

"What do you mean?" Cristina tightened her brows with confusion.

"I'm going home." His matter-of-factness scared her. "My mother wants to come, but my great uncle is very sick and she has to stay in Alabama."

"So?" Cristina was not perceptive enough to understand why her chest was tightening and her breath was unsteady.

"So, I'm going home."

"Wouldn't it be too much for your mother to be taking care of both of you?" Nobody had warned Cristina that the question would infuriate Burke.

"What do you mean, Cristina? Nobody has to take care of me. I, I will take care of me."

"Right." Neither of them could find another syllable to fill the vacuum in the room.

Cristina walked up to his bedside, but retracted the kiss she was about to give as he shut his eyes. Another sign of rejection, she thought. She wondered how many more rejections she could take before she blew up like a bazooka. It would be too late for anyone to help then.


	5. Chapter 5

4

Nobody could help. Nobody could. Preston Burke made sure Cristina had gone before he opened his eyes again, those eyes that were still burning from his vigorous attempt to hold his tears. He missed the intimacy in their relationship and was searching for signs of affection in her eyes. All he seemed to see, unfortunately, were clouds of fear. Those were not expressions he yearned for; those were images he vowed to avoid.

Anything that reminded him of his disability frightened him. Sometimes he fancied the tremors were only a result of fear, although as a surgeon he knew better. He knew he would be able to operate again. He just knew. But would he still be as perfect as he was? Anything less than perfect was mediocre. He had come to a full appreciation of why his music hero Eugene Foote would rather die than to play defective music.

"Dr. Burke," Bailey entered the room without knocking. "Where's Cristina?"

"She left."

"Don't let me catch her today. Running away without bringing me coffee." Bailey could see the sadness in Burke's eyes and the most she could do was to ignore it.

Burke was grateful that Bailey did not ask how he was doing, because everything was not fine and he would rather bit his tongue than spit out the word "fine" once more. "You know, Dr. Bailey, Cristina can't be trusted around coffee. She's probably gulped down yours by now."

"When I see her again I'll hand her to the kitchen staff. I figure it'll do her some good working there."

"You seem pretty determined to have Cristina burn down this hospital or give your other interns lots of food-poisoning cases to play with." It struck Burke that he could still crack jokes about his girlfriend. Clearly, nobody had told him that a sense of humor and sarcasm was normal even among clinically depressed patients.

"Then we could all have a nice summer vacation," Bailey smiled gently before she moved on. "That girl is gonna miss you when you're gone."

Burke laced his fingers across his chin.

"I'll keep an eye on her. You have fun in Alabama and come back in one piece. You're arrogant but Jackie Ames is worse."

"Should I take that as a compliment?" Burke felt that the weight in his heart lifted momentarily as he rolled his eyes.

Outside the hospital, the heaviness of the heart was drowning Cristina's spirits. Her heart was beating like a hammer on a wall waiting to be pulled down. Even Bailey's cup of Caramel Macchiato failed to elevate her mood. Before she realized, she was already done with half of what she got at the convenience store.

"Cristina, you're smoking!"

"So what, Bambi? If you're worried about yours lungs, then go away." The combination of nicotine and caffeine was making Cristina jittery.

"Does Dr. Burke know? He doesn't seem to like smokers."

"Mind your own business." Blowing another mouthful of smoke into the air, Cristina continued, "You think he's the only one who's in the dark? You think I'm the one who's hiding things? You know there're a whole lot of things I don't know either."

"Like what?"

"For example, that Prada devil was his mentor, not his mom."

"Oh."

"And, he's going home to his Mama tomorrow." Cristina shook her head in denial.

"Well, Cristina, maybe you never asked; maybe all you ever talked about with Dr. Burke was Medicine."

"Oh, you're SO right. Has anyone told you how insightful you are?" Finishing the last mouthful of her cigarette, Cristina replied with a scorn. "You know, that Prada devil is gonna think that we're all inept interns who date their boss and dying patient."

"Cristina! Meredith and Izzie are your friends."

"For the record, Meredith slept with McDreamy again. I don't think she'll ever learn. I'm tired of it."

"What?" Anyone who knew George would tell him his jealousy was unwarranted.

"And Izzie? Don't we know for a fact that she loved that guy so much that she killed him and her own career? They should have locked her up," Cristina squeezed the cigarette butt into the empty coffee cup. "Barbies should never work at hospitals."

"You're mean, Cristina. I don't like you."

"I don't like me either." Only yesterday, Cristina told the Chief she had lost her edge and was beginning to show loyalty to her fellow interns. In less than 24 hours, her nasty manners reigned again. The fury in her escalated as her remorse grew. She stopped and kicked the coffee cup off the ground.

The cup rolled forward until it entered the visual field of Bailey. Looking at the cup on the ground, Bailey grunted, "Yang, you drank my coffee?"

Moving a step closer, Bailey sniffed at her intern, holding her nose with two fingers. "Oh my dear lord! How long have you been chain-smoking here? Go and wash away that disgusting smell before you get close to any patients again. I don't want you to trigger asthma attacks everywhere you go."

"Yes, Dr. Bailey." Cristina picked up her trash and vanished in no time, leaving George with Bailey.

"O'Malley, the last time I checked, you don't have a wife who yelled at you in front of an animated hospital crowd, you don't have a dying niece, a broken shoulder, a dead lover, not even a dead dog. So, for heaven's sake, why are you standing here looking like it's the end of the world?"

"Nothing, Ma'am."

"Call me Dr. Bailey. Stop acting like I'm your mother. When Cristina is done, tell her to go home. I don't want her here today, or tomorrow. I can't risk anyone's life when my intern isn't her usual self."

"Cristina seems fine," George replied. With her usual stinging remarks, he added silently to himself.

"Are you stupid? How could one be fine when her lover is shot and lying there helpless? It has taken so much out of that girl."

George nodded without believing. Cristina was arrogant and biting. She seemed a little withdrawn the night before, quiet. But George knew she had not visited Burke as often as he did. What sort of a girlfriend would leave her injured boyfriend unattended? George wondered.

"You think it's easy to be stone-cold all the time? Cristina isn't Meredith or Izzie. She doesn't cry and break down every other day but that doesn't mean she doesn't have her moments. It's just that they may be so easily overlooked that maybe she herself didn't know either." Bailey remembered the day when she was in labor. _Why couldn't George O'Malley be as supportive and understanding as he was last time?_

Blinking his eyes a few times as he absorbed every word, George promised, "I'll tell Cristina to go home."


	6. Chapter 6

5

And they all went home.

Sitting on the empty metallic chair, Cristina wondered if Burke had arrived safely. She knew he was flying first class and the Chief had sent a nurse to accompany him, but that did not stop the cramps in her stomach. Why didn't Burke let her know? She could have taken a week off and gone to Birmingham with him. Was it really that obvious that she was not a nurse material?

It was barely midnight. How long did she have to wait till she could see the sun again? Scanning around the apartment in solitude, Cristina suddenly realized that she had become comfortable with the idea of having a home to return to each day. The thought of calling Burke's apartment her home enchanted her. It was a strange attachment she had never experienced, neither towards her million-dollar Beverley Hills mansion, nor the dumping ground her mother decorated near Capitol Hill.

She examined the apartment bit by bit, beginning with the pink orchid by the entrance and the two framed pictures above it. She let her fingers float freely on top of the back of each metallic chair around the table, tracing the memory of her first breakfast with Burke.

George was right. Cristina never asked. She did not know why the first drawer of the dresser was missing a handle. She did not know why Burke arranged his books in the Dewey decimal system. She did not know who it was in the photos by the bed lamp.

She did, however, know why his side of the mattress was not as firm—not because he was much heavier, but because they always ended up on that side, together.

People claimed that after you had been with someone for some time, you would begin hating each other by getting tired of his habits and mannerisms. It did not happen to Cristina.

She enjoyed knowing exactly which set of plates Burke would use for pancake and which ones for steak; which of his frowns could be soothed by a simple kiss and which ones were pure expression of mischief. Cristina never told anyone openly about these insignificant things, because in all honesty, she did not know why they made her smile.

As much as she craved challenges, there was something about the regularity in their relationship that kept Cristina warm and safe. If only someone had warned her life was as unpredictable as Seattle's weather. For the first time, Cristina questioned why things could not stay the same forever.

Before getting the answer she desired, Cristina had crossed the border to the land of dreamless sleep again.

Burke convinced himself it must be a dream when he walked into his apartment, although he was not exactly sure if it would be more appropriately called a nightmare.

The orchid was drooping like an ailing maiden, its leaves turning yellow and rotten. His living room couch was gone. When he opened the kitchen cabinet, he could not find his favorite red coffee mug and at least half of his plates went missing. His bedroom seemed alright—that was before he saw his shrunken curtains and the clothes in his closet, more wrinkled than his grandmother's skin. He quickly counted in his head to make sure he had only been gone for 12 days.

"Hey, you're back." Cristina gathered her energy and put forth a relaxed smile, although the shopping bags that filled up to her cheeks could not quite conceal the dark circles etched beneath her eyes.

"I miss the cool Seattle breeze."

"Oh." Cristina managed to flash another smile as she scattered her bags on the kitchen counter. "Really?"

"Cristina, what happened to my apartment?"

It was unnerving to Cristina that Burke was calling it _his_ apartment, not _their_ apartment anymore. "I was trying to tidy up the place while you were gone."

"Which involves hiding my coffee mug and plates?" Burke inquired in a manner that indicated neither anger nor humor.

"I broke a few plates and your cup when I washed them. You know, they get slippery." Cristina had her eyes fixated on the kitchen tile.

"What about the orchid?"

"I didn't know I'm not supposed to water it everyday."

"Where's my couch?"

"Mer told me I could use Windex, but I didn't know there are different kinds. Anyway, it was a mess." She rolled her eyes as if that would help convince him. "The harder I tried to clean the couch the bigger the stain became. We might as well get a new one."

"How about the curtains?"

"I only learned that they're _dry-clean only_ after throwing them into the machine."

"And my clothes?"

"There must be something wrong with your iron. The longer I iron your shirts the worse they seem."

With each additional question, Cristina knew Burke was getting less satisfied with her replies. "I'm sorry, Burke."

"Never mind."

Not knowing what to say, Cristina attempted to change the subject, as she always did. "Have you eaten yet? We could order take-out."

"I'm not hungry." Burke's voice sent Cristina another step down the spiral of alienation.

For two people who had been with each other at least 10 hours a day in the past 6 months, not talking to each other for 12 days was a big deal. Both of them reckoned how hard it was to reconnect, especially since their prior communication style had never been something they took pride in.

"Cristina, we need to talk."

"I thought we're talking." Her unassuming smile did not neutralize the defensiveness that precipitated her voice.

"It might be better if you move out."

"What?" Cristina could not tell if he was kidding. "You're kicking me out because I broke a plate or two?"

"Listen, Cristina," Burke never imagined it would be harder to ask her to move out than to move in.

"I am listening. You can't punish me for no reason."

"I'm not punishing anybody. That's why it's better for you to move out. It isn't fun to live with a handicapped man. It isn't easy. I know you don't want to play nurse."

"Is that how you think of me? That all I want from our relationship is some fun? That it's been easy being girlfriend to Doctor Preston Burke, Head of Cardiothoracic Surgery?"

Had it been someone else, Burke might have caught the feeling of hurt in her voice. But it was Cristina, and Burke naturally assumed she was only being argumentative.

"Burke, you think you're the only person who's trying hard? You think you're making any sense?" Cristina caught her breath after hurling all her energy into her words. "If you want me to move out, fine, but stop giving me this crap about being handicapped. You didn't lose your arm for God's sake; you know the tremor is only temporary." Cristina finished her sentence with a stubborn stare.

"What if it's not? What if I am never the same Preston Burke again?" His anger made his hand tremble. Anger was easier to manifest itself than pain, but harder to tackle. Burke knocked his fist on the table with a loud thud, causing a wicked sensation of pain to spill to his wound and his whole body jerked.

Self-pity was something Cristina detested. But when she noticed the agony on Burke's face, instinctively her feet brought her closer to him. The only thing that stopped her from stroking his back to comfort him, ironically, was Burke himself. The moment Cristina touched him, he flinched.

It boggled Cristina's mind to realize that a man who was so full of loving care, someone who rocked her to sleep after she lost her baby, would be pushing her care away time after time when he was supposed to need it the most.

"Fine. I'll move out tomorrow."


	7. Chapter 7

5

Burke did not want to move an inch after breakfast, even though it was almost time for his therapy appointment. Ever since Cristina left the apartment 3 months ago, he was falling more deeply into a bottomless pit of helplessness each day, especially in the wee hours of the morning.

It was ironic how Cristina left the key in the new coffee mug she bought for him the night before he drove her away. Come to think of it, Cristina probably did care about him. He knew many people did. Why he was avoiding them was a mystery even to himself. He did not mind talking to strangers about his feelings, but whenever he was with people who meant something to him, he felt completely cut off. Intimidated.

"Good morning, Sir." The bus driver grinned.

"Hi, Frankie." It surprised Burke how he looked forward to that simple greeting from the driver each day. It was the first human contact Burke had every morning. The smile brought solace to Burke, as it almost felt like the only thing that remained constant in his world.

Frankie liked the courteous young man. He had no idea who he was, except that every inch of his appearance screamed one thing: he was sad and lonely. Frankie wished he could help, but all he could offer was a "Have a good day, Sir."

"You too." Burke adjusted the collar of his shirt as he made his way to the rehabilitation ward.

"Hi, Dr. Burke."

"Dr. Burke's here!"

"Good morning, Doctor."

"Hello, Doc!"

Never in his life had Burke been greeted by that many cheerful faces. The first time he walked into this ward, the only sentiment he felt dread, but the long-term patients were filled with so much warmth that it soon melted his resolve. Who would have thought that these kids, mostly fighters of bone cancer or birth defects, would have so much joy in them to share?

The sight of the wheelchairs and clutches did not pain him. What actually pierced through his heart were the hopeful eyes of the caregivers at the waiting lounge and the ceaselessly upbeat attitude of the staff. Having spent over a third of his life at hospitals, it was until recently that Burke saw the other side of the medical world. As a world-class surgeon, he removed tumors and mended hearts, but after the cutting and suturing, who were there to provide continued support to bring those individuals back to face the challenges in life? Not only was there life outside of surgery for physicians, there was also life after surgery for patients. There was so much more on the road to recovery than the surgical gallery could capture. And sometimes, people never recovered.

"Dr. Burke, did you bring Marissa candies today?" Steering her wheelchair at full speed, the little girl with frenzied hair stopped in front of Burke.

"How would I forget?" Burke was waving a bag of colorful beads in the air.

Limping across the hallway with a cane, a boy with one leg shone a disapproving look at the doctor. "Marissa, you're gonna lose all your teeth eating so many candies."

"Brian, I'm sure she'll brush her teeth." Burke patted the little girl's head.

"Of course!" Marissa made a face at Brian. "Brian's mean. If only he'd be just like you!" The little girl grinned. "I like you, Dr. Burke, you know."

"Just because he gave you candies?" Brian shook his head again.

"Shut up, Brian." Marissa rolled her eyes. "One day Marissa will be your wife, Dr. Burke. You're the most handsome man on earth."

Burke smiled awkwardly.

"That's why I say you're a pig head." Brian's hand sprang to his forehead in disgust. "For a man as handsome as Dr. Burke, there surely is some very fine woman in his life already. Right, Dr. Burke?"

Not giving Burke a chance to answer, the girl exclaimed, "Really? You do? Where's your girlfriend?" Marissa was a little disappointed but curious. "Is she as pretty as Marissa? Does she have curly hair too?"

Lost in thought, Burke was searching for words as images of Cristina rose to the surface.

"Can't you tell from the spark in Dr. Burke's eyes? I bet she must be a super model! That's why I say, stop dreaming, Marissa!"

Marissa stared at the handsome doctor, then back at nasty Brian, looking like she was about to cry. "I hate you, Brian." With that, she wheeled away without saying goodbye.

"Girls are trouble." Brian shook his head in a typical 12-year-old boy's manner and limped after his friend, leaving Burke alone in the hallway.

"Preston? Time for your appointment." The occupational therapist signaled him in. "How are you feeling today?"

"Not too bad, Hazel. Should I begin with the pegboard routine before moving on to practice suturing on pig skin?" Burke was hoping the mundane exercise would calm his nerves.

"Actually, I want to talk to you about your progress."

"Yes?" Burke looked up.

"I talked to Terry this morning. He said you're doing very well in Physio. Here at OT, I can also tell that your hand is steady and your grips are firm."

"So?" Burke was not sure what his occupational therapist was getting at.

"In short, the rehab team's ready to send you back to the OR." Hazel stretched out her hand. "Congratulations, Preston."

"Thank you." Burke took it with his right hand, his contrived smile barely enough to cover his anxiety.

Walking out of Hazel's office, Burke seriously doubted that he had recovered; he had not told anyone his hands still quiver occasionally.

"How's she like?" Brian's presence startled Burke. The boy was waiting at the end of the hallway. His little friend had deserted him and he held a grudge against the doctor.

"Excuse me?"

"Your girlfriend."

Burke felt his heart constricted. "She is very special."

"Why didn't she come with you?" Brian continued wryly, "My grandma always comes with me. She says that's what people who love you and care about you would do."

Burke didn't realize his hand was trembling again, nor did he feel the burn of the young boy's penetrating gaze.

"Is that why you're here?" Brian pointed to the surgeon's hand.

"Yes."

"Are you getting better?"

"I am."

"Good, because I don't want to see you here again," Brian sneered. "You know, some day I will be a doctor too, a better doctor than you are. Marissa will like me then." Jealousy was written all over the boy's face.

Who was there to blame for the unintentional cruelty springing from the boy's mouth? Someone should have educated the young fellow that being older and taller did not imply one had a stronger heart. Burke managed a faint smile and left. His mind was completely blank.


	8. Chapter 8

3

Jackie did not like the blank expression on Cristina's face. The cardiothoracic surgeon lacked the self-awareness to acknowledge it was a mere reflection of her own visage.

"What do we have, Yang?"

"Rachael Reyes. 15-year-old. Fainted during ballet performance. No history of asthma, panic attack, or any heart conditions. Lungs are clear. EKG comes out fine. Blood work is normal. Reflex is unremarkable."

"Then why are you in my office? Discharge her."

"Her parents want to make sure she's fine." Cristina paused. "Rachel's twin sister died of congenital heart failure last year during their ballet performance. I believe she was your patient."

"Her sister's Rita Reyes?" Jackie took off her glasses and snatched the chart from Cristina. "I saw her at Hopkins. I already had a thorough check on the sister and she's strong as a horse."

"So?"

"I'm not gonna waste my time again."

"But they crossed the country to see you."

Whether she had sailed through the turmoil in her short-lived romantic life or not, Cristina Yang was still the same fiery intern, ready to stand up for what she thought was right when it came to medicine.

"If I think she's Ok, she is." Jackie insisted without raising her voice.

"Apparently she's not. Her parents said she refused to walk." Although the series of unfortunate events had humbled Cristina considerably, she did not lose her sharp tongue.

"Maybe she's lazy, maybe she's attention-seeking. Who knows?"

"Her sister died last year." Cristina did not know why she brought that up spontaneously. In the past, she would not have understood what it meant to have lost someone.

"People die everyday, Yang. Is that a big deal?"

"Is it not?" Cristina taunted. "The girl is only 15."

"Fine. Do something to cheer her up and make her walk. You don't want her parents to think we're incompetent."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Anything. Drug her, hug her, threaten her. I'll be back to Hopkins' soon. I want her to be up and dancing again before I leave."

"You're leaving?" It gave Cristina an unfathomable thrill that the devil would finally be gone.

"Summer's long gone. I have students to teach."

"That means Burke is fine now?" Cristina mindlessly threw in the question.

"Didn't they say news spreads faster than disease here?" Jackie's lips curled up maliciously.

"What news?"

"The board is thinking of replacing him. It's taken longer than they expected for him to recover. Who knows if he can still cut?"

"But he's the best. They know it." Cristina went slightly pale.

"Don't worry. There're plenty of good-looking surgeons for you to date. Preston Burke might soon become history."

Cristina was grossed out by Jackie's coldness. How could she call Burke her favorite student and then trash him that way?

"Yang, you aren't young anymore. If you want to find yourself a surgeon husband, you gotta hurry up." Jackie smiled venomously.

"You aren't young either. If you want anyone by your death bed, you better stop carrying that wickedness around you like a gold medal." Cristina fought back.

"You realize I'm still your boss, don't you?" Jackie rolled her eyes in astonishment. "Is there any reason why you want me to dislike you further?"

Jeopardizing her career had not been Cristina's priority, but the arrogance in Jackie Ames made her glow in rage. "Even if Burke can't operate again, he's still a much finer surgeon than you are. He has a good heart. And you, you're nothing but evil."

Folding her arms leisurely, Jackie squinted her eyes in amusement. "Why do you have to boil over that? The last time I heard, you two aren't together anymore."

Cristina bit her lower lip so hard that she could taste blood in her mouth.


	9. Chapter 9

4

When he saw the thread of blood under the scalpel, Burke breathed nervously under his surgical mask.

"Good job, O'Malley. Gently move your scalpel down until you touch the aorta." Burke was grateful that Richard stood up for him and let the hospital administration give him a second chance, but he knew his time would soon be up if he could not prove himself to be capable before the next board meeting.

So far, the only thing Burke was confident enough to do was supervising surgeries. Standing behind the surgeon in charge, Burke's hands always moved in unison, as if the hands on the patients' body were his own.

"Now, pull that out from the other side. When you're done with that, you can close her up."

"Yes, Sir." George continued the procedure under Burke's guidance. Things were going so smoothly that Nurse Olivia was beginning to imagine George O'Malley as the new Preston Burke. Of course, anyone with a sound mind would have questioned if syphilis had already gone up to her brain.

At that critical moment, Burke's hand began to tremble. Thanks to George's much improved skills, no one up in the gallery noticed that, except Bailey.

What would have happened if he was the one holding the scalpel today? Baffled by a sense of uselessness, Burke left the OR in silence. Leaning against the wall, he clasped his hand in frustration.

"Dr. Burke." Bailey looked at her attending, placing one hand behind her head to straighten her hair. "You know what they call O'Malley?"

Burke frowned a little. "No."

"007. Licensed to kill."

"I see."

"And now you're leaving him alone in the OR with your patient?" Bailey pressed her fingers on the white surface behind him. "What's it, Preston Xavier Burke?"

Burke glared down at the ground.

"Look, Dr. Burke. I'm not here to play your shrink. If you've got a problem, spill it. Otherwise, you know you have the responsibility to stay in that OR."

"I'm fine, Dr. Bailey. I don't have a problem."

"Well, of course you don't." Bailey nodded forcefully. "You don't have an ear or a nose missing, your limps are still attached to your body." Bailey quickly scanned through Burke. "But you're standing here, looking sorry for yourself. Where's the Dr. Burke I used to know? That cocky, demanding, brilliant surgeon who worked his interns and residents to hell?"

"I'm not sorry for myself." Burke tried to stay calm.

"Yes, you are. Or why are you looking at that hand of yours as if it has caught the plague?"

Burke could not hide his irritation any longer. "My hand was shaking, Dr. Bailey. It was shaking! How can I operate when I can't control my hand?" Burke held his fist so tightly that his nails were beginning to hurt the inside of his palm.

Clearly her throat, Bailey asked, "What did the rehab team say?"

"They said I've recovered." Burke sneered at the thought. "Why then would my hand still shake at important moments?"

The two doctors exchanged looks in absolute silence, until George O'Malley came out looking absolutely proud. "Dr. Burke, I'm done. Is there anything else I can help?"

"Go get your post-op notes done, O'Malley. Then you may go."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Great work, O'Malley." Burke delivered his praise in monotone and was quickly out of sight.

"Hey George, you're good!" Meredith gave him a pat before she grabbed a chair around the cafeteria table.

"Thanks, Mer." George smiled cordially as his hand beneath the table reached for Callie's. It had been 3 months since he moved out and got a new place for himself and his girlfriend. He swore that Meredith was history and it felt good just to be friends.

Throwing a stack of reference books on the table, Cristina joined the crowd, "Did I miss anything?"

"George performed a CABG on his own." Callie smiled, not taking her eyes off him for a second.

"Seriously? You did the whole thing on your own? I would have killed to do that!" Cristina fed herself a spoonful of food.

Everyone went silent.

Cristina took another stab at her salad as she turned a page of her book. "Hey guys, do you know how I can make a girl walk again?"

"What case is that? Is it neurological or psychological?" Meredith tried to sound professional.

"This girl fainted while she's dancing. Everything's fine, but she refuses to walk." Cristina folded her arm. "The Prada devil put me on this boring case. How I wish I were you, Bambi."

"No, you don't." Meredith looked at her friend sympathetically.

"Why?" Cristina wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "There's no surgery I don't want to get my hands dirty with."

"It's supervised by Dr. Burke," George murmured, "Although he left the OR when we're almost done."

"Oh." Cristina feigned a smile and pretended she did not hear the remark. "So back to my patient. How can I make her walk again?"

Nobody had the guts to move their gaze away from their salad. They found it a bigger taboo to talk about Burke in front of Cristina than calling Bailey the Nazi right at her face.

When Cristina sought to take over Callie's dwelling place 3 months ago, nobody dared to ask what happened. Meredith did make a friendly gesture of offering her a room at her mother's house, but it was turned down right away. Apparently, Cristina concealed her disdain towards her friends' relentlessly messy love affairs and the odor of chocolate cupcakes very well by locking herself up in the basement cell.

Emotionally arrested. That was how everyone thought about Cristina.

"C'mon, people. You can't grow another plate of lettuce just by looking at it." Cristina knew what was on their mind, but she pulled it off as the only person who did not seem to care about Burke.

Indeed, as Jackie Ames viciously but rightfully noted, Cristina was not in the position to be concerned. She and Burke were not a couple anymore. Why would one care about someone whom she had not seen or talked to for a quarter of a year?

At the same time, Cristina could not stop wondering why Burke left the OR. She reasoned that if the Chief allowed Burke to work on the surgical floor, it meant he must have fully recovered. And if he did not need her during his recovery, he surely would not need her now that he was fit again.

"Ok, I have to go see my ballerina. Have fun with salad-gazing!" Cristina picked up her books and left, leaving her friends in a state of uncertainty.

"Am I the only person who thinks that Cristina is still in love with Dr. Burke?"

"She's Cristina, George." Frankly, Meredith did not know what to expect from her friend either. All she knew was that Cristina did not deserve to be placed at the center of another round of gossip. The past few months had not been easy, even though Cristina did not show it on her face.


	10. Chapter 10

5

The past year had also been an ordeal for Cristina's patient. Rachael could not forget her sister Rita. They had been inseparable since the day they were born. They told her Rita's heart stopped beating. They told her to keep dancing for her sister's sake. Rachael did. She really did. But when Rachael was making her triple pirouette at the annual performance this year, she froze and collapsed.

"Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Reyes."

"Good afternoon, Dr. Yang." Rachel's father stood up. "Rachael, the doctor has come to see you." Mr. Reyes was a sad man. He lost one daughter the year before, and now his other daughter was giving up.

"Rachael, why don't you tell Dr. Yang how you're feeling?" Mrs. Reyes' sounded hopeful. She was the one who actually wanted to know how her daughter was doing, but the girl was reluctant to open up.

Noting the silence, Mr. Reyes spoke up. "We'll go and get a quick bite. Is that Ok, sweetie?" While he did not expect a response, it still made him sigh when his eyes met with the hollowness in his daughter's.

"I'll take care of her." Sensing the awkwardness in the air, Cristina ushered the parents away.

"Hi, Rachael."

The girl turned away to face the window.

"How are you feeling today?"

The girl did not move.

"So, we know your legs are fine." Cristina flipped through the chart and pretended to be taking notes.

"In fact, your whole body is fine."

Rachael remained silent.

"You know, I don't like to be stuck with a mute person." Cristina could not contain her sarcasm.

"I'm not mute."

"Thank god you're talking." Cristina exclaimed with genuine relief. "Now if only you could walk."

"I can't."

"If you can't walk, how can you dance again?"

"I don't dance anymore."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to. Rita loved dancing. I practiced with her. Now she's dead."

"So you never liked ballet?" Cristina probed.

"I liked ballet."

"See, I knew it." Cristina snapped. "So don't make it sound like someone was forcing you to dance. I'm sure there's something about dancing that appeals to you."

"Maybe." The girl closed her eyes, as if she did not care.

"Well, when you hurl yourself up in the air, when you float across the room, when you extend your finger tips to touch the sky, don't you feel special?" Cristina asked.

"What do you know about dancing? You're only a doctor."

"Your doctor happens to be a ballet dancer in the past." Cristina spoke with some pride.

"You?

"Yea." Cristina did not expect Rachael's skepticism.

"You aren't poised enough to be a ballerina. You're roaming like an angry buffalo in my room."

"Excuse me? Did you just call me a buffalo?"

"You don't have the serenity in a ballerina. My teacher said we've to be composed at all times. Smile even when you're sad, smile even when your legs hurt; smile even when your heart is beating so fast that you can't breathe. Even when you're jumping up and down in full force, you gotta land like a feather, and not shatter the beauty of it." The girl stopped looking like a 15-year-old when she began her mini-lecture on dancing.

"Right." The words startled Cristina. All those years of classical ballet training, all those ridiculous habits of wearing a mask to preserve the beauty. Who would have known that behind that elegant shell stood a creature as fragile as anyone else? Who were they trying to fool? "That's why I stopped doing ballet." Cristina mustered.

Knocking at the door, Mr. Reyes came back and was surprised that his little girl was talking to the doctor. "Rachael, what've you two been talking about?"

The girl looked away again. The father felt dejected.

"Your mother is in the cafeteria. We'll go back to the hotel now. Would you like us to bring you anything?"

Again, Rachael did not answer.

"Well, honey, we'll see you tomorrow." Mr. Reyes walked out of the room feeling sad.

Cristina was stupefied by the way how her patient interacted with her parents. "Why didn't you talk to your dad, Rachael?"

"I don't know."

"You can't avoid people forever."

"I'm not avoiding you."

Cristina nodded to acknowledge the irony. "I'm only your doctor. They are your parents, people who care about you, people who mean something in your life."

"Maybe that's why I don't want to talk to them." Rachael glanced over Cristina's puzzled face.

Cristina pushed a strand of curly hair behind her ear as she pondered on it. It was something she never thought about.

"Why did you stop doing ballet, Doctor?"

"I found something more exciting."

"Like what?"

"Horse-riding."

The girl's eyes glittered. "Really? Do you still ride?"

"No."

"Do you always give up so easily?"

"How nice of you to accuse your doctor of giving up!" Cristina was convinced that she hated teenagers. This one in particular.

"It sounds like you are. Ballet, horse-riding…who knows what else?"

Cristina tried to remember the last time she was on a horse. "I was a good rider. I won a lot of awards. Then I had a bad fall."

"And you just gave up?"

"That's none of your business."

"You're scared."

"Yea, whatever." Admitting her fear to her young patient was surprisingly consoling.

"Well, I am." Rachael looked squarely at Cristina for the first time. "I am scared. What if I end up like Rita?"

"You're perfectly healthy. You can dance for a hundred years before you drop dead."

"I miss her. At first I danced in order to remember her, but that made me realize I've lost her." The girl paused. "Have you ever lost someone?"

"I guess." Cristina shut her eyes briefly, thinking whether her experience would qualify. "People come and go in our lives, Rachael. You lost your sister, but she'll forever be on your mind. As long as your memories stay fresh, you're keeping a part of her alive."

"Even if she's dead?"

"Even if she's dead." Cristina repeated it to herself. "Actually, sometimes it might be harder to lose someone who's still alive."

"How's that possible?"

"It could be sickness. My friend's mother has Alzheimer's. Doesn't recognize my friend anymore."

"Sounds pretty bad." Rachael nodded understandingly.

"It could be stubbornness. You parents are losing you if you keep shutting them out."

Rachael looked down at her mattress with some guilt.

"Or perhaps, two people simply don't connect anymore."

"Uh-huh."

Stifled by the gloomy atmosphere in the room, Cristina's eyes blinked as an idea came to mind. "Want me to show you something?"

"S—sure." Rachael cast a doubtful stare at her doctor.

Cristina steered Rachael down to the basement where she now lived. "Let me show you what real dancing is."

Rachael watched in amazement and chuckled. Although she could not hear the music on her doctor's iPod, Rachael could feel it in Cristina's steps. There was something liberating, almost primitive, about the doctor's movement. She was throwing all her energy into it, and suddenly Rachael saw tears on her doctor's cheek, glistening in the dark. Of course, Rachael did not know that Cristina's body was remembering every intimate movement she had had with Burke. Neither did Cristina.

Slowly, Rachael rose from her wheelchair. She did not need any music; she did not need Rita. For the first time, the girl was dancing for herself, feeling the rhythm of life.


	11. Chapter 11

4

Burke placed his hand on his chest to feel the rhythm within. Steady but desolate. The morgue was cold, as was his hands. As the chill moved up his body, the lump in his throat expanded. He did not know why he ended up feeling so alone. He wondered if it was wrong to have denied Cristina a chance to stand by him.

He had not been back to the OR since O'Malley's success. Another week had passed, but it always felt slower than it was at the morgue. Burke thought he was like the cadaver he was practicing his sutures on, both of them unwanted and forgotten by the world. His only company was the vibration beneath his feet, which went on and on—

Until it stopped, bringing his mind to a halt. Before Burke knew it, his feet had transported him to the basement.

"You live here?" Constantly thinking about a person was one thing; actually seeing her again after all these months of separation was another. Either way, Burke was acutely self-conscious when he saw Cristina alone in the basement.

"Yes." Cristina answered coldly.

"It's very clean." There was no trash on the floor, no dirty laundry. In fact, the place was as empty as an actual prison cell.

"Thank you." Cristina made a tight smile and looked away.

For two people who were deeply in love, they surely were spending too much time in anxiety-provoking silence.

"Were you, uh, dancing just now?" Burke hesitantly inquired as Cristina blushed.

"Was I disturbing you?"

"No. I thought I heard something in the morgue whenever I work there."

"You sure it wasn't the cadaver talking to you?"

Burke's lower lip twitched. He missed her humor. "Cristina."

"Yes?" Holding her breath in anticipation of what Burke would say next, Cristina's fingers kept swimming through her curls.

"Your hair looks different."

"In a good way?" Cristina did not know why her tone came out so cold and distant. She speculated that it had to do with her desperate pursuit for her lost edge.

"Cristina."

"Yes?" She could not believe he was doing that again, calling out her name in a way that made her heart ache.

Looking at her earnestly, Burke mumbled her name once more, before holding her in his arms. Ignoring the reluctance on Cristina's face, Burke initiated a kiss, but when their lips were about to meet, she slipped her head onto his shoulder. He held one side of her face and stroked the back of her neck. Looking into the dark, she pushed him away, "I can't lose you twice."

Cristina's voice sounded far away, despite the fact that she was standing right in front of him.

"What do you mean, Cristina?" It felt like adding salt to an open wound.

"If I don't have you, I won't lose you." Cristina took a step back. "I know I wasn't good enough, and I don't think I'll ever be." Cristina's voice trailed off as she prepared herself for an equally unpleasant response.

"I need you, Cristina."

Cristina took a deep breath and stayed as calm and collected as possible, "What exactly am I to you, Burke? A commodity? What makes you think that you could throw me out and then take me back anytime as you please? What do you mean by you need me? I needed you after you were shot. I needed you more than ever, but what did you do?"

"Why would you need me when I was feeble and weak?" Burke was not sure if he understood her anymore, perhaps he never did. "Why would you need a Preston Burke who could not button his own shirt?"

"Stop asking why." Cristina almost shouted at him.

"Why?" That did not make sense at all in Burke's head.

"I don't know." Running her hand across her forehead, Cristina looked into the ceiling. "This isn't biology. It's not like I could tell you I need oxygen because without it my heart would stop beating."

Burke raised his eyebrows. "I was injured. It wouldn't have done you any good to stay." Burke tried to defend himself. "I didn't want to wear you out with my problems.

"But I need to know there's someone who would hold your hand in your sleep, someone who would squeeze your toothpaste for you, button your shirt, make you coffee; someone who would watch you practice your suturing skills and make fun of it... I needed to know that the person I care about is alive and well."

"You actually thought of doing all those?" Burke gasped in the midst of a mixed feeling of bewilderment and awe.

"I have the _run away blood_ in me, but that doesn't mean I don't need to feel needed." Cristina did not expect her eyes would go blurry as she spoke. "You made me fall in love with you, but you didn't let me in when you trapped yourself in your miserable world."

Burke's voice was beginning to throb. "And I suffered."

The short utterance, along with the self-directed anguish on his face, was intensely felt by Cristina. It now occurred to her that the suffering of Burke was as unbearable as her own. It sucked when one could do nothing to help or was not given an opportunity to.

"You know, it's like finally knowing the answer to a difficult medical problem, only to be told that the patient's heart had stopped beating." Cristina tried to sound logical and composed, even though she did not know what she was talking about. "When I finally stepped up, you walked away…I wanted to be there. What's the matter with you that you wouldn't just let me?"

The last question sounded eerily familiar to both of them. Burke's lips parted while Cristina covered her mouth with her hand in shock.

"I don't know." Burke smiled weakly. "I never thought that's such a tough question."

"So, are we breaking up?" Of all the questions she could have asked in the world, this was the most daunting.

"I love you, Cristina."

Those three words echoed in her head, those three mesmerizing yet manipulating words.

Cristina wanted to leave but her knees were weak. There seemed to be a disconnection between her mind and her body. She was paralyzed.

The man in front of her was not the same god-like surgeon she met on day one, but he was still overpowering. Examining every feature on his face, Cristina's lips began to move. "I…do you still want me to be a part of your life?"

It took Burke a few seconds to digest the meaning behind her question. It was funny how she made it sound like it was all up to him when he was expecting her to make up her mind. "Will you?"

Receiving Burke's soulful gaze, Cristina allowed her fingertips to travel to his face before flying back to her own lips in slow motion. Her brain immediately recognized the familiar taste of it. After that, she let her lips be the next explorer, landing perfectly on top of his. It was nothing like their passionate kiss in the past, but there was a soothing quality to it, a feeling that they had known each other for a lifetime.

Cristina rested her head on Burke, savoring the serenity and security she had been craving all her life.

She knows this is where her heart belongs. Whether love would last wasn't something either of them needed to know, because every day and in every way, they were learning and growing together. When the moment came, love would touch their heart.

"I love you too."


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: I am extending the contest fic I wrote in August. Reviews are appreciated .

"You know, George, 'I Love You's are reserved for your lover just as my back is reserved for mine. Stop looking at me!"

George O'Malley blushed. He was staring at his friend in the locker room only because he was curious and concerned.

"I was only uh…So, you and Dr. Burke, uh, you two…"

"—are going to be working hard on the surgical floor while you struggle in the pit." Cristina flipped her hair up into a bun.

"Cristina, I thought we are friends." George furrowed his brows in confusion.

"We are all friends, and we'll all get to scrub in. Don't worry, George. We're Bailey's happy and confident interns and we've to be on time to make our resident happy. Please go and tell her we're coming." Meredith smiled as she sent him off, "Thank you very much, George."

"Are you Ok, Mer? You're soothing pig boy as if you're his kindergarten teacher!"

"You are in a bad mood, Cristina."

"Thanks for reminding me that." Cristina paused, and then softened up a little, "Can you believe that everyone in the hospital is talking about me and Burke again?"

"That means things are back to normal."

"It's irritating. I don't think I can deal with that."

"Even after your hot make-up kiss and the I Love You?"

"You're my person, Meredith. You don't use what I told you against me." Cristina sighed before she continued, "I don't know. I'm not used to it. I'm not used to us, together, as a couple again. At least not at the hospital."

"But you love Burke."

Cristina looked up from her locker and nodded lightly. _Of course I do_, Cristina thought to herself. Yet, she felt different. She and Burke had been through so much in the past few months. Although they were now back on the same bed, eating off the same breakfast plate, drinking from the same tap again, she felt overwhelmed by an unfathomable sense of responsibility. She was scared of losing him again.

In a way, Cristina felt like she was 3 years old once more. She recalled vividly how her father was always away from home because he was a sailor. Nonetheless, whenever he was there, Cristina would be the happiest princess in the universe.

As a little girl, she was taught that bad things only happened to bad people. The day she learned that her daddy was gone forever, Cristina felt completely responsible for the loss. She was certain that she must have done something bad. After spending days and nights pondering on what she had done wrong, she came to the conclusion that it was because she once bragged about her wonderful and humorous daddy in front of her kindergarten pals.

That was why the more she was in love with Burke, the less Cristina wanted anyone in the hospital to mention it. In fact, she was not sharing as much with Meredith as she used to either.

It took Cristina many years to find out bad things could happen to good people. When the storm decided to wreck the cruise and threw her father into the deep ocean, it was not because she had done something wrong.

It all came back to her when Burke was shot. She was almost certain it was her fault. If she had to be penalized at all, however, it would be the fact that she loved those two men too much. And that, obviously, was nothing wrong.

"Enough about me. How are you and the two fools?" Cristina smirked as they walked down the hallway to meet Bailey.

"Monday is date night with Finn, Tuesday is with Derek, Wednesday Finn… Sunday the three of us hang out together. We're very organized."

"How organized! You're bringing polygamy to a whole new level."

"I'm giving all of us a chance," Meredith whispered as they saw Bailey.

"All of you are on time today, what a pleasant surprise!" Bailey licked her upper lip before handing out the assignments. "Grey and O'Malley, you'll work with me today. Karev, you're on a special mission. The Chief wants you for the entire week."

"Do I get a _special mission_ too?" Cristina was thrilled by the complexity in the term.

"Yang, do you want to follow the brain or the heart?"

"Is that a trick question? Well… the brain."

"Go and run some labs for Dr. Sheppard's patients."

The tasks did not sound very exciting.

"What if I had picked the heart?"

"Then you'd be working with Dr. Burke. Someone scheduled a valve replacement last minute. I don't normally let my interns get out of what they already committed themselves to, but if you want to switch—"

"Oh no no no, I love the brain. It's rational, it's hardcore. I'll take it."

Cristina was probably the only person who did not realize she was trying too hard to avoid Burke.

"O-K," Bailey was surprised by Cristina's response. "Don't stand here, move! Not you Yang, I need to talk to you."

"Yes?" Cristina motioned towards the corner after her fellow interns had all become out of sight.

"Don't try to hide it. I know you two are an item again. That doesn't mean you can't scrub in with him, because you two are better at knowing the boundaries than some people."

"Dr. Bailey, actually I prefer cruising Sheppard's patients around for their MRIs and labs."

"Liar. I don't know why you two have to play hide-and-seek all the time, but if that's what you want, I'll make sure you never get assigned to him again."

"Thank you Dr. Bailey."

"If I ever catch you wandering off or sneaking into the gallery to watch him operate, I'll suspend you from the surgical floor for a week, understood?"

Clearly, Cristina was already regretting her own decision.


	13. Chapter 13

4

A/N: This might seem a little off, but you'll have to give it a chance… R&R please.

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Burke did not believe in bad decisions. There were only things that didn't work, and those that worked better.

Getting back with Cristina, to him, was something that had been working really well. Getting back to the OR as the one who actually operated on a patient, however, was something he didn't feel quite as certain about.

Burke knew he could have told the Chief that he still wasn't ready after all these months of therapy, but it was an emergency situation. Jackie Ames, his excessively proud mentor, was back to John Hopkins. It certainly would not be pretty to transfer a patient to Mercy West just because of his own sense of insecurity.

"You can do that, Preston. I have all my trust in you," the Chief patted his surgeon's shoulder as they stood side by side in front of the board.

"It's been a while. I mean, I've been observing and practicing, but performing a procedure on a live person—"

"You'll be fine. Besides, didn't you say that the tremors are completely gone?"

_That's true._ It amazed Burke how the human body worked in synchrony with the mind. Ever since he was back with Cristina, the tremor subsided completely, even when he was anxious.

Although, anxiety was something he couldn't get rid of this morning, as he headed for the elevator.

"So, there'll be a valve replacement this afternoon?" Cristina smiled as the elevator door opened. "Who're you supervising today?"

Burke stepped closer to his woman and whispered, "myself." Until then, it did not occur to him that Cristina still thought he was only supervising some junior surgeons instead of actually holding the scalpel.

"You what? Oh Burke…Preston, I didn't know that. I thought they said they would give you a few more weeks?"

"You're worried I'll kill someone?" Seeing Cristina acting more concerned than he was had a paradoxical effect of loosening him up.

"Don't say that."

"Are you assigned to my team today?"

"I, uh, no. I picked Sheppard."

"Oh." Burke was a little disappointed.

"I didn't know you're operating."

"You'd only want to work with your boyfriend when he's the one performing the surgery huh?"

Although he might sound accusatory, he was only teasing her. Cristina, on the other hand, was shaken up by the words. She thought he was going to have that whole 'I am a person first' thrown at her again.

What she really meant was that she cared. She would hate to miss his first real big surgery since the incident. No wonder Bailey asked if she wanted to switch. At the same time, she was compelled not to be working alongside her boyfriend. At least not today. They were fine when they're alone, just the two of them, but she still wanted some time to figure out their place in the hospital. She still couldn't get out of the whole idea of being too close and dependent on each other 24 hours a day.

"Cristina?"

"Sorry, Burke. I have to go. Remember the bomb guy? You said you can't think when I'm in your OR. Don't be surprised if you don't see me up at the gallery. You'll do a fabulous job no matter what. You can tell me about it tonight, Ok?"

Tilting his head a little in confusion, Burke smiled back. He did not feel like Cristina was deliberately avoiding him. She was not distant, only different. Burke kept wondering about that as they moved towards opposite directions. In fact, he was thinking about it so much that he had no time to doubt his ability in performing the surgery anymore.

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"Dr. Yang, I thought you'd be assisting Preston in his surgery today." Derek Sheppard was amused to see the uptight intern walking right through the door into his disorganized office.

"Dr. Sheppard, I don't think I've ever asked you why you weren't working with Meredith."

"What do you mean?"

Cristina swallowed hard before responding. "Ok, I'm dating my attending, but can we just not go there? Right now, I'm an intern, your intern."

"Sure." Derek shook his head and clouded his amusement with his smile. "I promise I'll make you the most productive intern today. Now, do you see that stack of charts? I want you to run some labs and schedule brain scans for every one of them."

"Wait, you can't be serious. There're at least 50 cases there." Cristina's jaw dropped.

There was no way she could get out of the hospital before mid-night. Burke would be waiting for her in disapproval, or he might go to sleep in the half-empty bed.

Cristina felt silly to be thinking of those little things. But as much as she wanted to avoid having her private life placed under the spotlight, she did not like the whole idea of not spending the evening with him after his first valve replacement in 4 months.

"You want to be an intern, so I'm making your experience as authentic as possible," Derek smiled again as he sent her away. "Thank you, Dr. Yang."

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What did not go away were the silly thoughts in Cristina's head. They simply would not give in. Despite knowing that those 50 cases were not something she could escape from, she hurried back to the locker room.

"What did I say, Yang? No wandering in the hospital before getting any work done," Bailey found it suspicious that Cristina was writing in the locker room during this hour of the day.

"I, uh, I was, well, I left my notes and I need to copy something from them," Cristina slipped everything into her side pocket, wishing nobody had seen it.

"I don't know and don't care about what you're hiding, but you'd better be working hard today, you hear me?"

"Yes, Dr. Bailey."

It was a hospital and the hallways were free of obstacles. Yet for Cristina, to get to where she wanted today would require jumping through a few hoops. In the past, she could have used some help from George or Meredith. But she did not need the extra gossip. She wanted to make it clear to everyone that she was a separate entity.

How she wished she could send someone else on the secret mission, someone who would not be questioned by Bailey or any gossip-makers.

The clock was ticking and the other person probably wouldn't even care if she did that, but Cristina was determined.

Perhaps that's why Cristina was relieved when her first patient in the charts was down at Ortho with Callie Torres.


	14. Chapter 14

3

A/N: I wonder if I should keep writing. It's fun writing the story but if it's not worth reading I won't keep going… I am not sure if OOC or not. I'll just let them take me anywhere.

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Cristina thought she actually liked Callie Torres. At first, she was nothing more than the _ortho chick,_ the one who was rumored to have roamed the house half-naked. Later, when she kept her mouth shut about Meredith and McDreamy's prom night sex and boldly rescued Cristina's best friend from the black panties scandal, it became an unspoken knowledge that Callie Torres was a strong woman. Indeed, why would she opt for a specialty in bone setting and breaking otherwise?

"Hi, Cristina."

"Hi, Callie."

If Bailey was like a mother to her interns, Callie was the not too popular yet protective big sister. Ever since George told her Meredith and Cristina were family, Callie had been more and more sisterly to them.

"So, you moved out of my old basement spot?" Callie smiled lightly, without acting too friendly. After all, it was a hospital and she was above Cristina.

"Yea," Cristina returned an awkward smile. She prayed that the ortho resident would not be as nosy or caring, whatever it was, as George O'Malley. "It's dark but comfortable."

"Sometimes I miss it too. The freedom of dancing in the dark was amazing!"

"Oh, you did that too?" Cristina was here for business, but chit-chatting with Callie was surprisingly engaging—not as emotionally heavy or daunting as talking to Meredith, nor as intellectually numbing as talking to George. One day, they could be friends.

"Not anymore. George is a conservative guy. He doesn't allow me to dance in our bedroom." Callie lamented.

"Maybe he feels bad that he's never half as good as you are as a dancer!" Both women laughed as Cristina passed one of her charts over.

"So this is the case you want to take over from here, Cristina?"

"Sheppard's order. I need to get 50 cases done by the end of today."

"That's pretty tough. You probably won't be home before mid-night." Callie was surprised. Everyone in the hospital knew how Cristina was back with Dr. Burke. She thought Sheppard would be easier on the intern after those past few months of hell.

"I know. He probably thinks I don't have anything better to do." Cristina rolled her eyes.

"George and I are planning to invite you and Dr. Burke to our place for dinner actually."

"Seriously?" Cristina couldn't figure out why. "Is it your birthday or anniversary or something special?"

"Not really. George just thought that it'd be nice to hang out together, maybe play Cranium…" Callie's eyes lit up.

"Not again!" Cristina could not forget how they suffered from a huge defeat last time because Burke didn't know who Madonna was.

"You're busy, so maybe next time."

"I guess so. You can ask Burke. He's probably busy as well. He has a valve replacement. I mean, he'll be operating on someone, not just supervising another resident or doctor."

"He's operating again? Good for him!" Callie was genuinely happy for the cardiothoracic surgeon. Among all the attendings, he was the least flakey and the most hardworking.

"Anyway, I got to go run these labs first, otherwise I'll be staying here till tomorrow." Cristina picked up the charts and was ready to run.

"Does that mean you don't get to assist or watch?" Callie didn't want to be nosy, because she was not that kind of a girl, but it just didn't make sense to her.

"I promised Bailey I won't," Cristina paused, wondering if it was Ok to disclose anything more, "I promised her before I knew it's gonna be such an important operation for him. His first one in 4 months."

"Did you wish him luck?" Callie asked.

"Kind of."

"When's the surgery?"

"At 2, I think."

"You could probably go and wish him luck again when he's ready to scrub in." Callie smiled self-consciously, "You know, that's what I do every time before George has to perform something major. He really likes that."

"I'll be busy. I promised Bailey…" Cristina regretted having promised Bailey not to work with Burke at the hospital, and the more she denied it, the more she actually wanted to do something for him.

"It's just an idea." Callie was slightly embarrassed, fearing she might have pushed too hard.

"I appreciate that. Really. It's just that… well, I don't really want anyone to see us and make a fuss about it."

"You mean you don't want to be seen as a couple?" Callie was shocked. "But you two are together again and everyone is happy about it."

"It's the attention. I don't want the attention. What if we mess up again?" Cristina shook her head. "I don't know if I could handle it next time. The fingers pointing and the funny stares."

"I didn't know that you care. I thought you're a free spirit." Callie didn't know the curly hair intern long enough to pass any legitimate judgment. However, the Cristina in front of her was quite different form the image George had painted.

"It's his fault. He's too popular. You know this hospital has a lot of crazy people. I don't want them to be jealous." Cristina was trying to fend it off half-jokingly. "You have to be careful with George as well."

Although Callie was harmless, it was more self-disclosure than Cristina had planned. It was time to run before things got messy.

"You sure you won't go see Dr. Burke before the surgery?" Callie smiled, "You know, Cristina, I think it's cute—you avoiding him and everything."

Cristina twisted her curls nervously.

"Actually, if you have time Callie," Cristina knew it was risky, but Callie could probably fly under the radar. "Do you think you might be able to hand this to Dr. Burke for me?"

"Sure."

"Don't let others know. Not even George."

"Not even George." Callie nodded in unison with Cristina.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: This is _one of my versions of Season 3_. It does not follow what happens in the show, because I started it as the fan-fic contest entry back in August.  
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**Ch. 15**  
"Did you find some black panties in the hospital again?" George was catching Callie completely off guard as she was holding the black plastic bag Cristina handed her earlier.

"It's a secret," Callie smirked.

"You're becoming one of them, secretive and mysterious," George bit his lips.

"They're your family. I thought you'd like me to be just like them, George."

"Well—"

"Cristina says she and Dr. Burke are busy today. Maybe we'll invite them over for dinner next week?"

"Sure."

It baffled George that Callie was so insistent on asking the couple to join them. Dr. Burke had been his friend, as was Cristina. After his injury and leave of absence, however, George was feeling a little awkward with the two.

"They need that. We still go to Meredith's house from time to time. Izzie has all of you checking up on her. But Cristina and Dr. Burke, it's only the two of them. We all need social support," Callie said in her neutral voice.

George stood transfixed by his clingy girlfriend, who actually was pretty rational at the same time.

"Ok. I will go find him. He is...my friend."

"That's why I like you, George. You're the sweetest guy on earth," Callie pointed her finger at his heart with a look of mischief on her face and walked away.

Walking down the hallway, Burke kept his eyes on the spotlessly white tiles, trying to avoid all eye contacts. He had to get ready. He could not be distracted. He had to stay focused. This was the day to prove himself worthy again. Nobody was ready for any bad surprise.

"Dr. Burke."

"Hi, O'Malley."

"Callie and I are thinking if you and Cristina might want to come to our place for dinner next week?" 

"Thanks, O'Malley. You better check with Cristina. She's a busy woman," Burke smiled slyly. "By the way, are you scheduled for any surgery this afternoon?"

"No, Dr. Burke."

"Would you like to scrub in on a valve replacement procedure with me?"

George blinked. "Of course… I thought you'd have asked Cristina."

"She's already taken by Sheppard."

"Ok, then I'll scrub in with you."

"Thanks, O'Malley. You'll always be my guy." Burke gave him a gentle slap on the shoulder.

A year ago, Burke would not have had that much trust in George O'Malley, the least brilliant of his class, who almost killed a patient on the first day. It still puzzled Burke to realize how they had become friends, he thought as he went to the OR to practice the procedure mentally.

"Hi, Dr. Burke."

"Good afternoon, Dr. Torres." Burke was surprised to find O'Malley's girlfriend in the OR. "Are you looking for George?"

"No," Callie blushed.

Burke smiled. Everyone at the hospital knew about the two lovebirds. Callie Torres might appear icy and intimidating sometimes, but she would always give her boyfriend a good luck kiss before any major surgery. 

"The surgery is scheduled for 2pm. He must be elsewhere right now."

"You're really early then, Dr. Burke." It was barely after noon.

"I want to be prepared."

In the past, all Preston Burke did was to walk in, do his thing, and walk out. If they could find a robot with the same level of skills, they could probably replace him with it. It had been a while since he last witnessed the whole thing from scratch.

"I heard it's your first major surgery since your come-back," Callie followed his gaze geared towards the scrub nurses and technicians. "It's good that they're already getting ready."

"Yes. They probably always did. I just never paid attention in the past." Burke almost felt compelled to thank everyone in the OR for setting things up today.

He might possess skills that few could master, but in the end, the success always depended on the team. His injury taught him not only to be humble and appreciate others' efforts, but to learn to lean on others. If he asked, most people would help.

Especially Cristina. Their relationship did not start in the healthiest manner. He started out being the one who gave a lot. In his overbearing way of giving, Burke overlooked Cristina's ability to give back. Then when he was injured, he pushed her away. The fear of being abandoned by her was so intense that it surprised him a great deal when he later found out how she had never for a day wanted to walk away. He didn't know why at first, but now he's learned to appreciate it.

"Seattle Grace has some of the best nurses and aids. I've met some really nasty ones from my previous placements," Callie pulled him back to the conversation.

"Yes, they are fairly nice and helpful," Burke laughed lightly, "as long as you don't mind the gossip."

"Really?"

"Everything is under their scrutiny, not only medical records. They know who is safe to torture and who isn't; who is going out with whom and what they do. Stuff like that. They're Richard's spies, only they also spy on the Chief," Burke smirked.

"No wonder," Callie said to herself as she thought about Cristina, not realizing that Burke heard her.

"What?" Burke looked at her with curiosity.

"Nothing," Callie blinked nervously. "Well, actually, I was talking to Cristina earlier."

That remark alone made him anxious. He's only seen her once this morning and everything seemed fine. He didn't recall hearing Cristina talk about Callie Torres often and he hoped there was nothing wrong with her.

"Oh, no, don't worry. Everything's fine," Callie saw the mild panic in the man's eyes. "She's just very busy."

"I bet Dr. Sheppard is working her really hard today?"

"That's what I heard. 50 labs to take care of and Bailey doesn't allow her to wander around."

"What's on their mind?" Burke shook his head and smiled.

No wonder Cristina said she would not be watching from the gallery. In fact, she might not even get to eat or go home tonight, Burke thought as he touched his eyebrow.

"It's complicated," Callie paused. "Anyway, she told me to hand this to you. She said it is no surprise and told you not to laugh."

"Why would I do thatt?" Burke took the bag and appeared amused.

"I don't know what's in there—"

Burke pulled out a note that read: "You don't need it, but I need you to know that I'll be with you."

"Thank you, Dr. Torres."

Burke was in high spirits for the rest of the hour before the surgery. It was very unlike Cristina, but it made him want to go to her immediately to kiss her.

It was his scrub cap, the one Cristina had taken possession of since they first met.


End file.
